He is a man of action.
"Oh no," the small Asian child moaned, recognizing the voice.
He is a man of honor.
"Why don't you just go away!" the tiny boy wailed, brandishing a broom defensively.
He is… Doctor Tran.
The "doctor" cowered, knowing that his life was about to be horribly altered in some cataclysmic way. What would it be this time? A pneumatic nail gun stapled to his hand that fired every half-second? A talking hotel man obsessed with cocaine? All he knew was that his life was about to be misery.
Yes, Doctor Tran, the fully-grown adult, has won the hearts of millions and saved many a luscious beauty. But can he survive his greatest challenge yet?
"I have to do chores! Go away, you evil man… voice… thing!"
For today, Dr. Tran must team up with two of the greatest heroes ever to grace time and/or space to defeat his mightiest foe yet…
Dr. Tran… and THE HUNGERRR!
Before "Dr. Tran" could ask his tormentor what in name of all that was holy he/it was talking about, a giant wolf crashed through the door of his parents' humble shack. The beast stood five times taller than the tiny Dr. Tran, and its eyes glowered almost as much as its grow growled. Atop its back was a large, green-skinned hulk of a creature wielding a massive metallic hammer.
Dr. Tran stood there, shakily holding his flimsy broom reversed, and did the only logical thing.
He screamed in mortal, pants-shitting terror.
The wolf seemed almost amused, its feral eyes glinting with primal mirth. The green-skinned man, too, seemed apologetic, and began rumbling at Dr. Tran in a language he could not understand.
Without warning, a bald human man in a red-and-black jumpsuit leapt through the window. "Now, hold on, everyone!" he cried, holding up his palms. "I believe there needs to be some communication here! Take these." He handed both the boy and the wolf-rider a small earbud, and after some miming got the rider to understand, both put the piece into their ear.
Dr. Tran was just glad an adult was around.
"Now then," the bald man said, clapping his hands together. "Doctor Tran, Warchief Thrall… can you understand me?"
The green-skinned wolf rider started. "I… can. What manner of magic is this, human?"
"Only the finest the United Federation of Planets can provide." He muttered something about the Prime Directive and "Why can't everyone speak Galatic Basic," then turned to Dr. Tran. "And you, Doctor? I do hope our sudden arrival did not… frighten you."
"I… I do not know what is going on!" Dr. Tran wailed. When even the great Dr. Tran is unsure of the situation, you know shit has gotten real.
"I am Captain Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise," the bald man introduced himself. "Our benefactor sent me here that we might work together. Now, I know that you, esteemed Thrall of the orcs, have great experience as a leader, and you, Dr. Tran, have accomplished feats beyond reckoning, even at your young, yet still fully adult age…"
"BUT I AM NOT AN ADULT!" Dr. Tran protested.
"Enough of this. What are we to do?" Thrall asked, eager to begin working. "My people need me back on Azeroth."
"We have been brought here for a very specific purpose: to solve world hunger. " The captain's statement rang in the air for a bit moment as all three fully grown adult males let the gravity of their sitatuion sink in.
"O-oh. Is that all?" Dr. Tran said.
Thrall let out a hearty laugh. "Such confidence! Truly, the legends that have traveled across time and space about you do you justice. Would that I had such a mighty doctor at my side to help me lead the Horde!"
Picard smiled. "Now, we have located where all the world's excess food is being held: in the shadowy dominion of one who everyone in the underworld knows, but no one speaks his name. A man who has passed into legend with the legend of his passing, but my intelligence suggests he is very much alive. What strange, unknown powers he has tapped to extend his life so, I know not, but I do know the man's name." He paused, for dramatic effect.
"Who would do such a thing? Who holds the world in the grip of such terror?"
"Is he the one that made me eat soap yesterday?" Dr. Tran asked.
Picard climbed on Thrall's wolf. "This man is simply known as… Dick Dastardly."
As the three raced on the back of Thrall's loyal wolf, Dr. Tran mulled over the plan Picard had outlined. Picard would approach under the guise of a neutral ambassador from the Federation, here to negotiate the return of the food. He would claim that the Federation normally did not interfere in intraplanetary struggles of "under-developed planets," but that their hearts had been moved by the plight of Earth, where legions of children had been forced to eat little aside from generic brand Honey Bunches of Oats that tasted like cardboard and low-grade fish sticks. Children, the great captain would argue, were the future, and even a man like Dick Dastardly had to see reason.
Meanwhile, Dr. Tran would use his unparalleled skills to sneak in through the air ducts of Dastardly's compound, squeezing his fully-grown adult body through the tiny spaces to steal all thirty million tons of the world's finest foods and carry it all out totally undetected and whisk it all away to a place where the Enterprise would beam it all over the world to waiting orcish peons, who would carry it loyally to waiting hungry childen.
Meanwhile, Thrall would be using his vast reserves of orcish gold and his command of reality-traversing spirits to raise a large host of interdimensional mercenaries to storm Dastaradly's compound should the plan fail. But, of course, they had Dr. Tran on their side, the fully-grown adult who was an international man of mystery, danger, and asskickery, so literally nothing could go wrong.
After 5.2 hours of awkward man-hugging on the back of a giant furry beast traveling at the speed of meth addict thought, they arrived at Dick Dastardly's Austrailia base. It was a giant garage, patrolled by shadowy PMCs wielding demonic machine guns that glowed with all the angst and misery of a thousand hurt/comfort fic writers. Truly, as these men cried themselves to sleep at night over their tragic pasts, only such things as the simple, yet complex love of Sheena and Professor Raine over the strenuous objections of the abusive, assholish, mighty abusive Lloyd could save them from propelling a concentrated Angst-I-Project-My-Own-Desperate-Need-For-Love-Because-I-Am-A-Lonely-Shipper-That-Nobody-Pays-Attention-To Bullet through their own brains. If only the terrific trio could have cut off the booze pipeline, Dastardly's army would have abandoned him overnight. Still, they did not know this.
As he stared into the barrel of one of these infamous guns, Dr. Tran wondered why everyone kept putting so much faith in him. He was a five-year-old child from a nothing country and a nothing family! Why did everyone think he was some world-conquering hero? He felt very silly in his tiny ninja gear, complete with steak knife repurposed into katana and his eyepatch.
Dr. Tran experiences a moment of doubt. For just a moment, his chiseled jaw quivers as he considers… could this be the end? A lone, single tear falls down his cheek, as millions of women gasp in horror and clutch at their suddenly dry nethers, for reasons they cannot discern. The very world holds its breath as Dr. Tran… stares down death. He has sworn, as a fully-grown adult doctor, to first do no harm. But first, he must do no harm… to himself.
"What the fuck was that?" the guard asked, looking away for a split second as the phantasmal voice spoke in overly dramatic tones.
Dr. Tran had just dropped from a duct, only to instantly be surrounded by twelve thousand guards, who had anticipated the heroes' plan.
Suddenly, the wall imploded, and a man in with white hair and a red trenchcoat, who was wielding two pistols burst through. "Woah," he breathed, reveling in all the attention on him. "This party's gettin' crazy." He rolled his head and grinned. "Let's rock."
Without warning, an overweight black man in a dectective's trenchcoat appeared out of nowhere and punched the goon holding Dr. Tran at gunpoint. The raw force of his epic punch carried him through thirty goons, who could only recall their precious Zelloyd fics (for the bullets contaminated the users, making them hopeless slaves to fanfiction) in mortal terror before raw African-American fury bowled them the fuck over.
On cue, a woman with a wide-eyed, yet steely gaze in a sexy dress drew a pistol and screamed, "NYPD!" before shooting eight bullets from a gun that Dr. Tran somehow knew could ordinarily only hold six bullets. Each bullet screamed through eighteen guards.
"Damn, Aya," the man in the red coat said. "Stealing my thunder." He then grinned and leapt into the fray, slicing through faceless, nameless guards in a carefully orchestrated dance of steel, death, and bullets. The screams of the dying echoed as the motionless Dr. Tran felt hot blood spray onto his still-surrendering form.
The black man and his partner cut through the rest of the mob, punching and shooting their way through the endless mob. Dr. Tran could only watch, transfixed, as the trio of heroes defeated the foes of the world. Thrall, too, leapt into the fray, Chain Lightninging the FUCK out of those fools.
When all was said and done, Thrall piled the bodies up as his wolf began to eat them all. Meanwhile, the man in the red coat, who introduced himself as Dante, shook Dr. Tran's hand. "We couldn't have done it without you, Tran." He knelt before the small, pre-pubescent boy. "I want you to have this." He handed over one of his pistols to the child, who took it with wonder. "May it serve you well. I won't forget how you saved my life today, Tran."
The two cops also bowed. Dr. Tran sputtered incoherently as Thrall patted him on the head. "Such a display of bravery… you have earned your title of hero this day. You are welcome in Orgrimmar any time, great hero."
"But… but… I did not do anything!" Dr. Tran protested.
"You give yourself too little credit!" Captain Picard, who appeared with the handcuffed, mustachioed Dick Dastardly in tow, said. "Why, the way you brilliantly knocked Mr. Dastardly's gun out of his hands, just when my blast from my phaser had been blocked, was a feat of brilliance and daring. I wish my own Commander Worf had been here to witness this." Picard shook Dr. Tran's hand. "You are a truly great man. You give me hope for the future."
After all, he is a man of action.
"Drat, drat, double drat!" Dick Dastardly seethed, his grand plans to control the world's supply of Waffle Crisp, the most divinely delicious foodstuff known to man, without which life would scarcely be worth living, foiled.
He is a man of honor.
"I didn't do anything!" Dr. Tran wailed.
He is…
"My people shall speak of your humility and bravery for generations. I am honored to call you comrade," Thrall said, clapping Dr. Tran, the conquering hero, on the shoulder.
DR. TRAN!